


Blowing Off Steam

by maraudersaffair



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Partners, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Hotel Sex, Pining, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 22:34:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18882598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersaffair/pseuds/maraudersaffair
Summary: Pansy and Harry shag in hotel rooms to forget about their jobs, but Pansy wants to be more than friends.





	Blowing Off Steam

**Author's Note:**

> Written for HP Het Fest. The prompt: They only meet in hotels late at night to blow off steam and only pretend it doesn't mean anything.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

They didn’t mean for it to happen. Being an Auror was difficult, frustrating. The wins were few and far between.

Pansy had just needed a shag. She’d needed to blow off some steam, sink her nails into some flesh, let her eyes roll back as she was pounded. 

She had wanted Potter for some time. That was the sad truth. She’d wanted him since Hogwarts, since he’d killed the Dark Lord right where she ate her sausage and beans. 

They’d both become Aurors, but he was with Weasley, engaged to her, and Pansy was still licking her wounds from the war. The need to apologize to him had consumed her until she found the courage. By that time, they were Auror partners and liked to have their tea together in the afternoon. Potter had blinked embarrassingly. “Thank you,” he said. She’d wanted to kiss him. She wanted to fall to her knees and worship him, but she thought about Weasley and let the urge float away. 

When news broke of their break up, Pansy asked him for a pint. She made sure to take him somewhere Muggle so they weren’t gawked at. She expected him to cry, a few silent tears after one too many pints, but he didn’t. He looked loose and free, like he could actually breathe again. His eyes were bright and teasing, and Pansy squeezed her thighs together. She hadn’t planned this. She _hadn’t_. She just wanted to be a good mate to him. 

They kissed in the dark foyer. He was helping her shoulder on her coat when she pressed him against the wall and raised herself on her toes to taste his mouth. He gasped, his breath hoppy. She expected him to gently push her away, but his arms brought her closer. They kissed and kissed, drunk and desperate, and she felt him respond to her. 

That had been the first time. It was months later, and Pansy didn’t want to admit that she loved him. 

She was waiting in another nameless hotel room. There was champagne this time, the bubbles biting her lips. The hotel was Muggle with a telly and fridge. She eyed the humming technology, nervous that it was trying to speak to her. Sometimes the fridge groaned like it needed something.

She paced the width of the bed. She was drinking too quickly, her head already light on her shoulders. 

There was a knock on the door and Potter entered. He always knocked like he was entering her flat.

“Hi,” he said shyly. 

She licked the alcohol from her lips. She loved that she made him shy. “Want me to pour you some?”

“No.” He dropped his bag and eased off his outerwear. She set her flute on the table and stalked closer. Their eyes met and he smiled at her. His smile said, _Please, I want it_.

Pansy grabbed him, and suddenly they were on each other, her hands buried in his hair. They kissed hotly, open-mouthed. He moaned and she swallowed the sound. 

He was tugging at her dress, trying to reach her tits. She tore open his trousers and sneaked a hand into his pants. He was already hard and a little wet, and she wondered if he’d had a stiffy since leaving the Ministry.

She stroked him slowly, her eyes trained on his face. He let his head tip back, his mouth parted. She liked watching him lose control. 

She licked his collarbone and whispered, “Do you like my pretty little hand fucking you?”

“Pans,” he said. 

“Let me,” she said, and raised up to kiss him. He pulled her closer again, crushing her hand, but it was all right because he picked her up and took her to the bed. 

She always knew sex with Potter would be passionate, all-consuming. That was how he lived his life. He threw himself into every murder case like his own mum had been killed all over again. She loved being his Auror partner. She loved enabling his obsessive tendencies, especially when it came to eating her cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” she said, letting her eyes roll back. Her dress was hitched up, her knickers dangling from an ankle, and his tongue was inside her, stroking. She threaded her hands in his hair and rocked against his mouth. 

He moaned as he ate her, switching between fucking her with his tongue and lapping at her clit. She was already trembling, her thighs taking the worst of it. He knew how to unravel her so quickly. Then his fingers were inside her, stroking and stroking, going deeper and deeper, until he hit the spot that whisked her to the edge. 

“ _Harry_ ,” she cried, and it really was a cry. She felt the tears in her eyes. She just wanted him so much.

He made a hungry noise and quickened his tongue. She arched and tightened her hands in his hair. She came hard, so hard that she saw white, her thighs trapping his head. 

She was still gasping as he helped her from her dress. She tried to help him undress but her fingers had become butter. 

“Please,” she said, kissing his face.

“Yes,” he said, casting a few spells. “Yes.”

Then he was inside her, parting her flesh and filling her up. Her mouth fell open. It was so good. She hadn’t fully come down from her orgasm, and now the pleasure was increasing, whirling. 

He was grunting, his eyes fluttering. She wished he was a talker, but he grew quiet the closer he got to orgasm. 

“Please,” she said again, twisting, clawing at his shoulders. She needed more, so much more.

He pounded her, going faster, harder. She sneaked a hand between them to work her clit, trying to catch up. He pressed his mouth to her neck and stilled. She knew he was coming because he grunted. 

He pulled out and stroked her slowly, bringing her to orgasm, watching her expression hungrily. When she relaxed, he removed his fingers and cast a few spells to clean themselves up. She was wrecked, her mouth open, her thighs still quivering. She was crying but she barely felt it.

“Pans,” he whispered, and took her into his arms. He kissed her temple. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” she said. 

He kissed her again. “You can tell me.”

“I - I like this. I like you.”

“I like you, too.” He was smiling, but she couldn’t meet his eyes.

“I want something more.”

“You want to stop doing this?” His voice had grown hard.

“No,” she said. “I want to be your girlfriend. I want you to take me to dinner.”

“Oh.”

She turned away, wanting to hide. She should get up now and leave before he made excuses. 

There was a horrible moment of silence. “Look at me,” he said.

“I can’t.”

“Pans.” He took her chin in his hand. “Look at me.”

When she turned his way, she found him smiling at her. He was smiling big, showing his teeth. 

“I want to date you,” he said. “I’ve wanted it since the beginning.”

She licked her lips, her heart picking up. “I want to be the only one.”

“You are the only one.”

“Oh,” she said. “I didn’t know.”

He kissed her again. “I don’t know how to talk about these things. All I know is that I fancy you.”

“Brilliant.” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him deeper. She smiled against his mouth.


End file.
